[koyashige?] conversation v.1.1
conversation v.1.1
> koyashige?, g, wordcount 310
Put the records on, somebody's going down.
He meets Shige underneath a tree the first time they see each other, when Shige is terribly inebriated and Koyama feels like they should have known each other long before that, when the sun is kind of half-shining through the tree leaves and when time has begun to pick up its pace.
Shige says something, but Koyama doesn't hear it.
"I beg your pardon?"
Shige says it again, slurs over the syllables a little, but Koyama hears him this time. "I'm in love with him."
"You are?"
"I am."
The sun is really bright now, kind of like a large lamp. It's heating the leaves and it feels like fire only the fire is in his head. It's always been in his head. Shige is still terribly inebriated, and he slumps forward. He makes it halfway into the sunshine before Koyama catches him, his hands on Shige's shoulders. A shudder runs down his spine. Shige is so cold.
"You really are," he says, and this time he's more sure of himself. Or less. He doesn't know which.
"I am."
"You're drunk."
"I am."
"But you love him."
"I'm in love with him," Shige corrects him, "And I have no idea why I'm telling you this. I'm terribly sorry. If it makes any difference."
"It doesn't," Koyama says hurriedly, "I was just afraid that I was missing out on something important, so I came here in the morning after my run and I see you slumped here like been here all along and what's the matter, anyway?"
"I'm in love with him," Shige says simply.
"Yes, I know," says Koyama, "So what can we do about it?"
Shige stops and looks up. The meager shade that the leaves offer is not enough to distort the confusion in his eyes.
"Nothing," he says finally. "Nothing we can do at all."
> koyashige?, g, wordcount 310
Put the records on, somebody's going down.
He meets Shige underneath a tree the first time they see each other, when Shige is terribly inebriated and Koyama feels like they should have known each other long before that, when the sun is kind of half-shining through the tree leaves and when time has begun to pick up its pace.
Shige says something, but Koyama doesn't hear it.
"I beg your pardon?"
Shige says it again, slurs over the syllables a little, but Koyama hears him this time. "I'm in love with him."
"You are?"
"I am."
The sun is really bright now, kind of like a large lamp. It's heating the leaves and it feels like fire only the fire is in his head. It's always been in his head. Shige is still terribly inebriated, and he slumps forward. He makes it halfway into the sunshine before Koyama catches him, his hands on Shige's shoulders. A shudder runs down his spine. Shige is so cold.
"You really are," he says, and this time he's more sure of himself. Or less. He doesn't know which.
"I am."
"You're drunk."
"I am."
"But you love him."
"I'm in love with him," Shige corrects him, "And I have no idea why I'm telling you this. I'm terribly sorry. If it makes any difference."
"It doesn't," Koyama says hurriedly, "I was just afraid that I was missing out on something important, so I came here in the morning after my run and I see you slumped here like been here all along and what's the matter, anyway?"
"I'm in love with him," Shige says simply.
"Yes, I know," says Koyama, "So what can we do about it?"
Shige stops and looks up. The meager shade that the leaves offer is not enough to distort the confusion in his eyes.
"Nothing," he says finally. "Nothing we can do at all."